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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27425329">New Hands on Ancient Hilts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimeturnerJay/pseuds/TimeturnerJay'>TimeturnerJay</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda &amp; Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: The Minish Cap</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Bittersweet Ending, But in this case it's really more Minish Cap than anything else, Gen, I think all my endings are bittersweet, I wouldn't normally tag a LU fic as anything but LU, LU is just the framework for it, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Maybe this way the timeline can make a bit more sense to a lot of you, Oops, Or maybe I'll just confuse you even more, Seriously though it has been a lot of fun fitting all these puzzle pieces together, The Legend of Zelda timeline analysis, This fic is me gluing the Zelda timeline together with duct tape dfhjdfd, Who knows? ;D, deliberate time shifts, it's more of a general feeling of sadness really, kind of, legacy, references galore!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:08:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,566</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27425329</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimeturnerJay/pseuds/TimeturnerJay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Master Smith, and what he can do for those who will come after him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Four &amp; Hyrule (Linked Universe), Four &amp; Legend (Linked Universe), Four &amp; Time (Linked Universe), Four &amp; Twilight (Linked Universe), Four &amp; Wild (Linked Universe), Four &amp; Wind (Linked Universe), Link &amp; OCs, Link &amp; The Minish, Link &amp; Zelda (Legend of Zelda)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>156</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Four-centric fics</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>New Hands on Ancient Hilts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“This isn't my first sword, you know”, Wind had proclaimed one evening, a proud sort of melancholy colouring his features as he had brandished the Phantom Sword, the keen steel of its blade catching the light of their merry little bonfire in a way that had made it look far more ethereal and otherworldly than such a casual setting seemed deserving of.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>The others had made vague noises of interest and leaned forward to study the sword, but Wind had withdrawn it, once again putting the bright steel to rest in its sheath.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“There was the Master Sword before, of course”, he had continued, his voice reverent and his eyes distant. “She was magnificent.”</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Sky had smiled a very soft smile at that, and Four had seen it echoed in nearly all of the faces around their fire. His own hand had strayed to the sheath of the blade at his side, the leather reassuringly soft and solid underneath his fingers.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>His eyes had remained trained on their youngest though, as another wistful smile had come to Wind's face.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“But there was another blade, before even Her. I've been meaning to ask you guys about it, actually-” He had reached into his bag then, and withdrawn something long and slim, old and shabby.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>The scabbard had looked like it might have once been ornate, had not time worn away its embellishments; the guard had been rounded in a way that might have once been pretty and deliberate, had not countless battles left their dents and marks on the metal.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>But the blade had been in perfect condition when Wind had drawn it from its sheath, and something about the way it had caught the firelight had seemed no less divine and proud than the Phantom Sword had been.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I don't actually know its name, if it even has one”, Wind had admitted sheepishly. “Back on Outset, it's simply known as the Hero's Sword. There's a shield to go along with it too. Allegedly, they were used by The Hero himself in the past.”</em>
  <br/>
  <em>All of them around that fire had inarguably been 'The Hero', but the audible capitals in Wind's words, as well as his hopeful glance towards Time, had made it very clear that, to him, there was only one person truly worthy of that title.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Time, however, had shaken his head, and Wind had visibly deflated.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The conversation had moved on then, the other heroes sharing wistful smiles and stories about the first blades that had accompanied them on their journeys, and how those swords had found their ways into their hands.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Four had listened absently, opting to remain silent, while his gaze had rested on the blade on Wind's lap, once again hidden in its ancient scabbard.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He had imagined the weight of that sword in his hands then, friendly and familiar, though he had not recognised the leathers adorning the hilt, wrapped and re-wrapped clumsily by fingers less experienced than his own over the course of uncounted millennia. It had been unlike its counterpart waiting at the bottom of Four's own pack, whose hilt had been expertly wrapped and worn smooth by the same masterful hand. Whose scabbard was still inlaid with elaborate designs, whose guard was still pristine and well-oiled.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And yet, they had been one and the same.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>(“Please, take this sword with you, along with the broken Picori Blade.”)</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Four had stared at the sword he and his grandfather had forged together all those years ago, during his last night of unburdened childhood, and he had known what he would have to do.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>It was time, he thought, as he gathered his things.<br/>Link – and he was just Link once again, hadn't been called 'Four' in so many years now – had prepared for this day carefully, and it wouldn't do to forget anything now.</p>
<p>He checked his bag once, twice, thrice; finally satisfied, he stepped into his boots (the good ones, blessed by the Great Fairy so long ago), wrapped his cloak around his shoulders and stepped outside into the brisk air of early morning, locking the door behind him.<br/>On the entrance to his business, he hung up an old sign that had served him well over the course of his life. “<em>Gone on an adventure. Don't wait up</em>”, it read in his own neatly cursive hand.<br/>He knew that he wouldn't return here for a long while. His journey, as usual, wouldn't be a short one.</p>
<p>Fresh, polished steel sat heavy in his bag, seeming to agree with him.</p>
<p>He had places to be, and so did these weapons.</p>
<p>There was an old melody played on blue clay, and in a burst of feathers, he was whisked away towards his first destination.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>He hadn't planned to base his travels on any chronological order, and yet here he was, deep within the forbidden forests of his homeland.<br/>The air around him was alive with song and the scent of green things as the Forest Minish he was travelling with pulled him along, small hands in small paws, and they hummed and sang and danced and twirled around him as they walked.</p>
<p>Link laughed brightly, almost sounding like a child again – maybe it was the Minish, or maybe it was the magic that had shrunken him, or maybe it was the deep, lost heart of the woods themselves – but whenever he walked these paths, thoughts of adulthood seemed as distant and far away as the moon.</p>
<p>Their little procession wasn't making quick progress as they sung and danced their way through the mosses and grasses of the forest floor, but this, too, was fine – there was no haste on this adventure, no need to rush.<br/>Besides, Link had long since learned to value the different perspective that came with being Small.</p>
<p>Fleeche, one of the Forest Minish who had come with him (he knew them all by name, of course) hooked her arm around his and whirled him past tree-high mushrooms and dew-drop lakes in a dance of quick steps, rapid turns and joyful, bell-like laughter.<br/>A beetle the size of a dragon crossed their path with slow, lumbering steps, and they watched it pass breathlessly, eyes wide with wonder and awe as they admired the way its iridescent carapace caught the light like the most desirable of crown jewels.</p>
<p>And then the flighty song began anew, and so did their bright, dizzying dance through the forest.</p>
<p>They were almost there, some distant, dreaming part of Link's soul knew with clarity.</p>
<p>The impossible green of the plants around them became impossibly greener, and the song grew in intensity as it was echoed by birds and mice and curious fairies, and somehow, Link knew with certainty that flutes would be joining their harmonies soon.<br/>The thought had barely even escaped through the serrated cracks of his four-part mind into conscious awareness when the first few trills of wooden whistles rang through the air, flitting into the music airily and effortlessly, guiding the notes and beckoning them to their tune.</p>
<p>There had been many dark things sleeping in this forest once, but Link knew that this call wasn't one to be feared.</p>
<p>The Kokiri beckoned, and so they followed.</p>
<p>The laughter in the air didn't belong to just the Minish anymore now, and the bare feet that gracefully skimmed the moss stepped lightly, far more lightly than their size should allow.<br/>The ocean of grass blades barely bent beneath their weight as the children of the forest circled them joyfully, mimicking their dance with the unbridled enthusiasm of never-ending youth.</p>
<p>Link stepped forward, into the middle of their circle, and bent low at the waist.<br/>He bowed as much to them as he bowed to all the magic of nature. There was hardly a difference there, anyway.</p>
<p>They acknowledged his gesture with laughter like tittering birdsong, and one of them stepped forward and scooped him up into hands that were large like mountains, small like a child's.</p>
<p>“I have heard of you, Hero”, the child said in a language that was neither Minish nor Hylian, and yet blossomed to understanding in Link's mind like a spring leaf unfurling into soft, delicate life. Their voice sounded like growing reeds and bees on summer flowers and barren branches in winter, like wind and rain and warm sunshine and deep, starry night skies.<br/>It sounded both ancient and young, new and old.</p>
<p>Link closed his eyes in helpless reverence at the leaves-in-the-wind sound of the Language of the Forest.</p>
<p>“I have come to speak to the Guardian of these woods”, he said, his own voice as calm and steady as it had always been.</p>
<p>The Kokiri fell silent then, and gazed at him with eyes that were both curious and knowing at once.<br/>“Mortals don't go to the Great Deku Tree”, the one holding him said breezily. “But the Minish are our friends, and perhaps our father will make an exception for their Hero.”</p>
<p>Another wave of bird-like laughter followed, and Link was placed back on the ground carelessly, with all the roughness and casual cruelty of a child at play.<br/>He winced as he tried to inhale through his bruised ribs, where childish hands had squeezed his slight figure too tightly, and nodded. It was nothing a fairy couldn't fix, and there was no shortage of fairies here.</p>
<p>In fact, one that had been following the forest children approached him curiously, and Link felt its healing touch wash over him in a prickling cadence of warmth as it fluttered around him.</p>
<p>“Do you know the way to the Deku Tree?”, it asked him in a voice that was both too loud and too quiet, a whisper-shout that unsettled the music's harmony around them.<br/>“If not, I can guide you! We haven't had visitors here in so long!”</p>
<p>Link offered the fairy a smile and another bow, and he murmured the incantation that Ezlo had taught him so many years ago.<br/>The magic runes wrought into his hood sprang to life, and he felt his very <em>self</em> expand and grow, stretching out in all the different dimensions until he was whole and him-sized once again.<br/>“I would like that very much”, he answered, giving a small wave to his Minish friends as he turned to follow the fairy.<br/>They didn't notice him go.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“Welcome, Hero”, said the voice, and the voice came from a tree so impossibly tall that Link felt like the entire sky had been swallowed up by its boughs.<br/>“Please excuse my wards if they have been rude to you. I'm afraid that they have little concept of common courtesy.”<br/>A shudder went through the living wood, like a forceful imitation of a mortal's sigh, and the towering branches groaned in an invisible wind.</p>
<p>Link merely inclined his head, patiently non-committal, as he regarded the forest spirit before him.<br/>The Deku Tree was certainly grand and majestic, and ancient by any standards of mortality, but something about the tree spirit seemed almost young, younger than he had expected based on Time's often-shared stories.</p>
<p>But then, all stories had their beginnings, he supposed.</p>
<p>“I come to you with a prophecy”, Link stated, never one to beat around the bush for long. He stepped forward, closer to the powerful presence, and allowed himself to bask in the strength and tranquility it radiated.<br/>He rested one hand on a surfacing root that was taller than he was, and tried to remember the details the Hero of Time had shared about his childhood on those companionable nights when a warm campfire and a mug of heated mead had loosened his tongue enough to momentarily obfuscate secrets and past regrets.</p>
<p>“There will be another one like me”, he began slowly, sorting through his words with the calm deliberation of an archaeologist excavating a fragile shard of ancient pottery.<br/>“I don't know when his time will come. It might take centuries or even millennia for him to appear. But he will come to you eventually, a boy by the name of Link, a Hylian believing himself to be a child of the forest.”<br/>Link breathed in, his eyes focused on some unreachable point a vast distance away.<br/>“A great and terrible fate awaits him.”</p>
<p>The Deku Tree hummed contemplatively, a sensation that vibrated through the wood and sent tiny shivers up Link's fingers where they were in contact with the ancient root. Distantly, he wondered how deep it went. Did the Deku Tree's limbs stretch all throughout Hyrule? If they didn't yet, would they reach those distances one day?</p>
<p>The hum stopped, and Link's fingers were still once more; he looked up in time to witness two large clusters of lichen furrowing in thought, like a child's crude imitation of bushy eyebrows.<br/>“Other spirits have told me of a Hero of ancient times. The Water Dragon speaks of him fondly, in her own underhanded way”, the voice said, and then hummed once more. “If you're here now, and there will be another in the future, does this mean that this is a pattern?”</p>
<p>A slow smile worked its way onto Link's face, full of bittersweet nostalgia.<br/>“'A pattern', huh?” He paused, the smile lingering on the edge of a sadder expression. “Yes, I suppose that is one way to put it, though none of us chose this fate. From what I have heard, you will meet many of us over the course of eons – or perhaps it is your descendants who will know my successors. What I know is that they will exist, and that they will meet a Great Deku Tree somewhere deep in the woods.”<br/>His gaze sought out the empty hollows beneath the furrowed lichen, where eyes would have been on a mortal creature. “But out of all of them, it is the one next in line who will need you most, and look to you for guidance. He spoke very fondly of you, always.”</p>
<p>The Deku Tree didn't question his future-past knowledge of people not yet born, and instead shook his mighty crown. There was a great rustling of leaves, like a million bells chiming at once, and the ancient voice returned, sounding lost in thought.<br/>“So I have my own part to play in all of this. I see.”</p>
<p>Another peal of countless wooden chimes, and he seemed to shake himself out of his stupor.<br/>“Hero, this prophecy wasn't the only reason you came here.”</p>
<p>It was not a question; it was a simple statement of fact, and Link nodded.</p>
<p>“That new Hero will eventually come to wield a sword of myth”, he said, and he bent down to unlatch the clasps keeping his pack closed. “But that sword is made for larger hands. He will be terribly young, at the start of it all – he will need a weapon to defend himself with. A hilt suited for the hands of a child, but also a blade that will be no less sharp for it.”</p>
<p>Trees couldn't lean forward in anticipation, and yet, the Forest Guardian gave off that very impression as Link pulled his gift from the depths of his haversack, the ginormous branches creaking as they shifted attentively.</p>
<p>The sword's design was a simple one; it looked at home here in the forest, with its curved wooden guard and leather-wrapped pommel. The only detail that stood out about it was the painstakingly polished piece of pink tourmaline Link had set into the centre of the guard with all due care, an inlay of shining gold surrounding the gemstone.<br/>There was magic in gemstones, he knew – rubies were warm, and sapphires cooling; tourmaline was less commonly used for enchantment, because it was far from as potent as some of its counterparts. But those were not the effects Link had wanted to imbue this blade with, in any case. Rather than strong environmental magic, tourmaline harboured less obvious effects; a sense of peace and tranquility were said to follow its wielder, a soothing calm that warded your heart against the cruel sorrows of this world.</p>
<p>It was a superfluous notion perhaps, but Link knew that one day, there would be a lost child who would be torn away from his home and forced by fate to wander the kingdom with only a fairy and this sword for companionship, and he hoped to Hylia that his choice of subtle magic protection would bring at least some solace and comfort to him during those dark, lonely nights.</p>
<p>He breathed out, and withdrew the steel from its plain sheath.<br/>The blade was beautiful in a way that only an expert eye would be able to discern, the metal clear, its perfectly parallel layers unblemished. There were no embellishments or bold statements in the metalwork, and yet it was one of the finest pieces he had ever made. He had made sure of it, had worked this project to absolute perfection over the course of countless months.</p>
<p>This was no legendary blade of evil's bane, but it would cut deep and true, light and steady. A blade for the safe-keeping of the forest spirits, a kokiri sword meant for the hands of a mortal forest child.</p>
<p>“A dear friend of mine has taught me the basics of enchantment”, Link said to all who cared to listen. He eyed the unassuming sword with the sort of wistful smile that was worn only by those who knew they had done all they could and more.<br/>“I am far from an expert, but this blade will last for however long it will need to. Warding materials against decay is a rather straightforward magic; I made sure that the hands of time will not harm this sword, or any of the others.”</p>
<p>“Any of the others?” The Deku Tree didn't sound particularly surprised, and Link appreciated the fact that the spirit was humouring him nevertheless.</p>
<p>“It will take many eras of this world for these blades to find the hands that were meant to wield them”, he allowed. “But I will trust in the Golden Goddesses to see it through.”</p>
<p>He placed the beautifully plain sword on a tree stump and bowed.<br/>“I will leave this blade in your care. Hide it, if you must. I trust you to deliver it to the Hero safely, when the time is right.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>To the west of Hyrule, there were ruins and a swamp, and in those ruins, a graveyard was starting to form.<br/>There had been no tombs there when Link had gone adventuring as a child, but people always died and dead people always needed new room to rest.<br/>It was morbidly fitting, Link thought distantly, that these ancient ruins would get to harbour yet more death.</p>
<p>The graveyard, at least, was peaceful. Calm, quiet and still, like the decrepit stonework surrounding it.</p>
<p>He walked among the tombs for a while, paying his respects and offering his prayers, as tradition demanded; some of the names, he was vaguely familiar with, while others were strangers to him. It made sense – he had spent many years wandering roads far away from Hyrule, learning from distant people in distant lands and sharing his own knowledge in turn.<br/>He hated to admit it, but he had grown somewhat out-of-touch with his own homeland as a result. He didn't know as many people here as he once did.</p>
<p>He stopped before a grave that may or may not belong to a family member of someone he was acquainted with, since the surname looked vaguely familiar, and clicked his tongue in distaste.<br/>It was a gaudy tomb, and whoever had built it had clearly intended to make the kind of statement that only large quantities of rupees could afford – the gravestone was grand and extravagantly sculpted from what appeared to be marble, and the stairs leading downwards suggested a whole chamber beneath, rather than just a simple coffin and some dirt.</p>
<p>Link supposed that he was hardly one to talk – Zelda had long since commissioned a tomb for him out in the Minish Woods that was far more elaborate than he was comfortable with, but she had insisted with stubbornly teary eyes that Hyrule's Hero deserved the kind of enshrinement that would keep his memory alive, even long after he was gone.<br/>He had dropped the argument then, because they both couldn't stand the thought of the other dying, as inevitable as that eventuality was.</p>
<p>They weren't getting any younger after all, and he had always hated making Zelda cry.</p>
<p>He had royal funding on his side though, while the owner of this tomb was probably a commoner – and if he was right about the family name, this kind of money would have been dearly needed elsewhere.<br/>A sigh escaped his lips. There was nothing he could do about it now. This grave marker dated back seventeen years already; this wastefulness would be old history by now, to anyone involved.</p>
<p>Still, he couldn't shake the sour feeling as he descended the stone steps, his boots quiet on the perfectly even-cut rock.<br/>He noted, not without some pettiness, that no one seemed to have left any flowers at this grave in a very long time; not even the wilted remains of a single bouquet graced the fanciful resting place.</p>
<p>He wasn't about to question the Goddesses, who he was trusting to guide his path on this mission, but some part of him did wonder why his wandering feet had led him here, of all places.</p>
<p>That doubt, however, evaporated the moment he stepped into the shadowed depths of the burial chamber and was greeted by the hazy and unfocused blue glow of spirit lights.</p>
<p>“...Mr. Pita?”, he enquired politely, like the name hadn't been proudly emblazoned on the tombstone up above.<br/>Even ghosts deserved some common courtesy.<br/>Even jerk-ghosts who had left their remaining family with little to no money in order to build themselves a needlessly opulent tomb.</p>
<p>It seemed to pay off, because 'Mr. Pita' perked up and proudly puffed out his chest, see-through in the low light as it might have been.<br/>“Welcome, young one! Why, it's wonderful to have a visitor!”</p>
<p>Link raised an elegantly curved eyebrow, his polite smile thinning. He might have remained relatively short over the course of his life, but the strands of silver interspersed with his golden hair suggested in no uncertain terms that he was far from being a 'young one'.<br/>He rather resented the slight – he had never enjoyed people talking down to him, and it had only become more grating with age.</p>
<p>The ghost seemed to sense as much, because he visibly deflated, slouching over somewhat.<br/>“I'm sorry”, he murmured, his voice sounding much less posh and polished than it had just moments before. “I meant no offence.”<br/>There was a ghostly sigh that didn't disturb the air around his floating figure, and the ethereal fire surrounding him dimmed significantly.</p>
<p>“I have always aimed to impress, all throughout my life. I wish for people to look up to me and to admire me, but all I ever do in the end is push them away.” He lowered his eyes. “It's that regret which has tied me to this world, and yet, I keep repeating the same mistakes.”</p>
<p>Link shook his head, annoyed at himself for his petty behaviour. He was better than this, normally. He always offered a helping hand, without judgement. The least he could do was extend the same courtesy to this man.</p>
<p>“No, it's my bad”, he amended, his smile feeling a little more genuine.<br/>“I'm afraid we got off on the wrong foot. My name is Link. I believe I might be acquainted with your-” He gave the ghost in front of him a quick once-over, noting the long white beard and the old-fashioned red robes, and made an easy guess. “-your granddaughter”, he finished, and was rewarded with a much warmer, more sincere smile in return.</p>
<p>“Ah, my dear girl!” The blue spirit fire regained some of its lustre, once again bathing the small underground chamber in its dim light.<br/>The room itself, now that it was fully revealed, was far simpler than the grandiose display up above might have suggested. The walls were rough-hewn and uneven, and the elegantly carved stone casket stood out almost perversely against the unfinished rock, flanked as it was by two cheap-looking fire baskets (Link was an accomplished blacksmith – he knew shoddy metal work when he saw it) that had long-since burned out.</p>
<p>This was where the money had run dry, he guessed quietly, and not without some judgement.<br/>It was, ironically enough, a perfect metaphor for the man floating before him now – exquisite and illustrious on the outside, bland and wretched on the inside.</p>
<p>Still, he hadn't come here to pick a fight. Quite the opposite, in fact.<br/>“Yes, Mrs. Pita is doing well these days”, he continued with a tilt of his head. “You probably still got to meet her firstborn son before you died, didn't you? He would have been a toddler back then. He is all grown up now, and he is going to inherit the family bakery one day. He got married a few months ago, actually – I think your granddaughter is going to become a grandmother in her own right, soon.” He nodded respectfully. “Would you like me to relay a message for you? I'm sure you must be rather lonely down here.”</p>
<p>The ghost glanced away at that, a great sadness falling over his countenance.<br/>“No, I don't think that would be for the best.” His voice was rough and hoarse all of a sudden, and the light of his soul dimmed once again, plunging the chamber into near-darkness. “I was not a good person in life. She resents me, and she is right to.” Another heavy sigh rumbled out of his translucent chest. “I was wasteful, proud and angry. I wasn't a good husband or father or grandfather, but back then, I was never able to admit even that much to myself. I wore my own hypocrisy like a shroud.” There was a pause. And then, so quietly that it was almost a whisper: “I'm rather sure that they were all glad when I died.”</p>
<p>Link frowned in sympathy.<br/>This was hardly the first ghost he had ever met, hardly the first soul he encountered that had been met with a terrible fate, but these things never got any easier.<br/>He allowed himself a moment to grieve for this old man and the mistakes he had made, just one moment to pray to the Goddesses for their comfort. Then, he breathed in and out, and the world seemed to right itself on its axis as he allowed his practised calm to slide back into place.</p>
<p>There was work to do.</p>
<p>“You condemn yourself very harshly”, he said, not unkindly. “Whether that is deserved or not, I can't say. But if you feel like you need to atone for your past, I might be able to help you.” He smiled, and then kneeled down to open his pack. “Who knows, having a purpose again might help you forgive yourself for what you've done. Perhaps then, you will finally be able to move on.”</p>
<p>The ghost of Mr. Pita looked on in a curious mix of uncertainty and hopefulness as Link rummaged through his bag, murmuring quietly to himself. His fingers brushed over something long and thin in the depths of his enchanted haversack, and he stilled, nodding to himself.<br/>Link looked up, and the ghost froze, pinned underneath his evaluating stare. “But I have to warn you in advance”, he spoke into the silence. “It will be a very long wait. The one you are waiting might never appear at all, depending on the path this world will take – it's a cruel burden I am placing on you, and for that, I am sorry.”</p>
<p>He rose, and in his hands was the most beautifully ornate sword he had ever created, surpassing even his many gifts to the royal family. It was a masterpiece, one of a kind.<br/>His smile was full of pity when he turned it towards the old man. “It won't be an easy job, but someone has to do it.”</p>
<p>The ghost's feet weren't touching the ground, but he still stumbled forward the same way any living person would have, clearly forgetting himself. His face was filled with reverence as he reached out, halting his hand mere moments before his fingers would have brushed the hilt of the blade.</p>
<p>There were tears in his eyes.</p>
<p>“I feel the warmth of the Goddess”, he breathed, his voice brittle with raw awe. “I- I think this is what I am meant to do. Please-” and he dropped to his knees in front of Link, who couldn't help but take a cringing half-step back in response.<br/>The old man was crying openly now, his hands shaking as they reached for the sword. “Please let me do this for you. You have given me everything-” His teary eyes were glazed over with a manic kind of sincerity, and the desperate <em>hope</em> in them pierced Link to his core. “-You have given me salvation!”</p>
<p>Link swallowed down the bile rising in his throat.<br/>He felt vile, taking advantage of a man in such a state.</p>
<p>And yet, his hands were calm and steady as they drew the blade from its sheath. There was no hesitation in him.</p>
<p>The Magical Sword caught the light of the spirit fires, their blue glow casting the radiant steel into a ghostly, ethereal sheen. The polished rubies set into the guard and pommel seemed alive with an inner flame.<br/>Just for a moment, time seemed to stop.</p>
<p>Then, a wet sob escaped the ruin of a man before him, and the stillness shattered.</p>
<p>Mr. Pita's eyes were wide and watery, transfixed by the unearthly blade before him. He looked unravelled, like someone had pulled at the strings of his very soul until it had come apart at the seams.</p>
<p>Link desperately wanted to leave.</p>
<p>He had sworn to himself, so long ago, that he would never again forge a magic sword. Blades like that had a mind of their own. If they considered you lacking, they would try to change you.<br/>He had seen it in the Four Sword. He had observed it in the others, in those that had held the Master Sword in their hands.</p>
<p>And now he had made one exception to his rule, and he was seeing it again, in this quivering old man kneeling prone on the ground, looking like the entire world had just ceased to exist around him. Like the only things in existence were he, and the sword.</p>
<p>Kingdoms would fall and rise around him, and many ages of the world would pass, but Link had the terrible inkling that this man would hardly even notice.</p>
<p>But nevertheless, his hands were steady and calm as he re-sheathed the weapon and extended it towards the ghost hilt-first.<br/>The bright steel gleamed coldly as it caught the ethereal firelight one last time while it disappeared into the scabbard, and then the guard clicked against the sheath and the gleam winked out, hidden away once again.</p>
<p>The chamber seemed darker, without it.</p>
<p>Eager hands grasped his offering, ghostly eyes fixed reverently onto this beautiful, terrible sword.</p>
<p>Link lingered for a moment longer, uncertain and guilty, but no heed was paid to his existence.<br/>When he eventually left, those ghostly eyes didn't stray from their coveted price. They would, in fact, not look back up for many eons to come, until their spell was broken by the curious arrival of a lost traveller, uncounted years later.<br/>And in some worlds, in some paths of fate to come, those ghostly eyes perhaps never looked back up from that perfect, horrible blade at all, transfixed for eternity.</p>
<p>Such was the trouble with magical swords. Such was the fate of those who chose to bear them.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Link returned to the Minish Woods eventually, feeling haunted and hollowed.<br/>He spent a few days with the merry folk of the forest, basking in their joy and happiness, but even their cheerful company couldn't chase away his dark mood.</p>
<p>His bag was two swords lighter now, but it felt heavier than ever.</p>
<p>And he knew that he was about to add further weight to his guilty conscience.</p>
<p>Over the course of his life, Link had learned many different things from many different people.<br/>He had become a Master Smith at a young age, and yet, he had never been too prideful or vain to study under other Masters – after his grandfather had passed away, he had worked with Melari of the Mountain Minish to learn their mastery of strong, enchanted blades, and after he had studied their skills, he had sought out the craftsmen of the Gorons, who forged heavy and blunt weapons that were more likely to cut rock than flesh but dealt brutal damage either way.</p>
<p>Hyrule hadn't had much left to offer to him after that, and thus, he had wandered beyond its confines and met many curious folks; the Zora had been hostile but wise, and had agreed to teach him the secrets of their tridents made from both magic and luminous ore, the Mogma had a sharp eye for powerful gems and unique metals, and sharper claws yet that inspired pin-point lethal weaponry, which he refined and perfected with the help of the Subrosians who formed glimmering blades from molten lava with their bare hands.</p>
<p>He had studied under them all and soaked up their knowledge, but none had taught him more than the Wind Tribe in their lofty palaces up above.<br/>In the years he had spent with them among the cloud tops, he had learned a lot about this tribe that followed the wind wherever it carried them; of their red hair and sun-kissed skin and silks and spices. They were a peaceful folk, for the most part, and not interested in weaponcraft and the arts of war – they had no reason to be, because up there in the sky, there was no one who would do them harm.</p>
<p>Instead of weapons, though, they had technology.</p>
<p>Link had seen some of it before, of course. The ruins the Wind Tribe had left behind in Hyrule were filled with the guardian robots their ancestors had engineered, and many secret mechanisms and traps had been hidden there by hands skilled with both machinery and witchcraft.<br/>Those inventions, though, were long-forgotten, and their rusted remains were overgrown with foliage and fungi; perhaps, then, it was to be expected that they couldn't even hope to compare to the level of sophistication the Wind Tribe's technology had reached in the centuries since.</p>
<p>Link had marvelled at their inventions when he had first seen them, and he still marvelled at them now, many years after he had learned their secrets.</p>
<p>There were buildings floating in the sky, suspended on nothing but clouds. Servants in the form of animated statues that would follow their masters' every move and command. Strange substances that had never before been seen by the eyes of a Surface-dweller.<br/>Link had taken in all this raw information, all these sophisticated theories and abstract math equations and hypotheses about matter and energy and life and death and time, and had combined this new knowledge with the things the other tribes of the world had taught him.</p>
<p>He had spent uncounted days and nights wondering and researching and experimenting, reading and learning and calculating the ways of the universe through violet-hued eyes, and had finally compiled his findings and ideas within a series of books, each page dark with his spindly, neat handwriting and inky diagrams and sketches.<br/>He had expanded upon the inventions of the sky-bound tribe, he knew. Had thought into existence things that had seemed impossible before – unique materials that were smooth and light and virtually indestructible, microscopic mechanisms (his Minish magic had certainly been very helpful in their construction) that channelled and used electricity to perform various tasks, and, most astonishingly of all, a distilled form of energy, stable and potent and undecaying.</p>
<p>These research journals had rested on his bookshelf for many years, frequently referenced for further insight and new theories and inventions, but now, they were stashed away within the depths of his bottomless travel sack.</p>
<p>It was time to pass his knowledge on.</p>
<p>Future insight guided his feet when Link sought out the palace and asked Zelda to introduce him to her secret guard.<br/>He wasn't unfamiliar with the Sheikah; he had grown up at Zelda's side and remained her close friend throughout his whole life after all, and as such, he was privy to a lot of information most other people would never know.<br/>But even though he was aware of the shadow tribe's existence, he had never interacted with them personally. They served Hylia above all else, and didn't mingle with the normal population.</p>
<p>The guard that Zelda introduced him to, in the end, was a young woman.<br/>Link glanced at her searching red eyes and instantly understood that this warrior had never seen real battle, no matter how intensive her training might have been. She was sure to be a capable fighter – she wouldn't be in Zelda's personal employ otherwise – but she also looked so young and so guileless that she must have surely been born after Vaati's presence had been vanquished from Hyrule once and for all.</p>
<p>Link gave her a smile, warm and honest. She would never have to endure the shadow of war, and he hoped dearly that this peace would last for many years yet to come.<br/>She smiled back at him, reserved and professional, as she studied him with all the keen intelligence of a stalking predator.</p>
<p>Good. He liked her already.</p>
<p>“My name is Impa”, the girl introduced herself with an even, steady voice, and something within Link stirred at that, a feeling of warm familiarity he couldn't quite place. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared, and he gave up on trying to grasp it.</p>
<p>“I bring a gift for the Sheikah, Impa”, Link replied, dipping into the same deep bow he would offer Zelda on formal occasions. He noticed the Sheikah warrior averting her eyes in bashful embarrassment, though nothing about her posture betrayed her shyness.<br/>“It is a gift of knowledge. If anyone in Hyrule can make use of it, I know it to be your people.”</p>
<p>He pulled the thick journals out of his backpack with reverence, brushing their familiar covers with his fingers one last time as he passed them over to Impa.</p>
<p>Link could see the hungry flicker of curiosity in those red eyes as they studied the thick tomes, and he knew that Zelda had chosen wisely.</p>
<p>Perhaps this would turn out to be an era of research rather than fighting. He would welcome it.</p>
<p>The things he had learned, he knew, would be absorbed by the Sheikah and expanded upon to create marvels he could barely even comprehend.<br/>But all of that would happen in due time, and that time would not yet come to be for many ages of this world.<br/>The seeds he had sown would grow to bring both great prosperity and great calamity upon the land one distant day, but those events were not his to change. He had an inkling that the future he had seen would inevitably come to be, whether he tried to fight it or not.<br/>The only thing he could do to help was to make its path as smooth and as untroubled as possible, for the sake of all the people of all the eras.</p>
<p>He couldn't change what was already written.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Impa bowed and took her leave, taking the journals with her, and Link was left alone with Zelda once more.<br/>He felt her step up next to him, and then her arm came up around him in a comforting side-hug as she leaned into him.</p>
<p>She felt warm and familiar at his side.</p>
<p>“You look sad”, she murmured, and Link hummed in agreement.</p>
<p>“It feels like I'm getting closer and closer to the end of my story”, he admitted, gently bumping his head against hers. She was taller than him, but not by that much. That fact had annoyed him to no end when he was a child, but it was yet another familiar comfort now.</p>
<p>“I'm tying up all the remaining loose ends right now”, he sighed. “That's usually what happens in the final arc of any book, isn't it? Once I'm done, what will be left for me to do?”<br/>There was a pause, and then he felt Zelda shift against him, her form shaking with near-silent laughter. Her breath was tickling his ear as she giggled.</p>
<p>“Oh, Link”, she said fondly, straightening back up and absent-mindedly tucking a stray lock of long hair behind her ear. “You worry about the silliest things sometimes. Your life isn't a book; just because you're done with one thing doesn't mean there won't be many other chapters to come.”</p>
<p>Despite her light tone, the arm she had thrown around his shoulders gave him a comforting squeeze before she withdrew it.<br/>“There's more to you than just being The Hero. You know that, right? Just like I'm my own person, and not just Queen Zelda.” She smiled at him, and it was the same smile she had always given him when they were children – sharp and excited and <em>wild</em> – and even though her face was lined with the early signs of age now, her smile looked no less strong and determined for it.</p>
<p>Link felt himself relax at the sight, some bone-deep tension finally loosening as he returned her smile.<br/>“You're right”, he said, suddenly feeling almost bashful for how dramatic he had sounded just moments earlier. His dark moods never lasted long around Zelda. She knew him too well to let him stew in such morbid thoughts for long.<br/>He was very lucky to have a best friend like her.</p>
<p>He hesitated for a moment, unwilling to break the peaceful silence that had settled between them, but there was no point in delaying this any further.<br/>“There was something else I wanted to show to you, actually.”</p>
<p>This time, the item was easy to find. He had tucked it away in one of the enchanted side pockets of his bag; it was far too precious and important for him to risk it sustaining any damage in the general chaos and clutter of the backpack's main pocket dimension.<br/>He pulled it free from the pouch, the smooth staff sliding out of the pocket with ease.</p>
<p>Zelda crouched down next to him and eyed the rod with curiosity. It was made from a blue-tinted material that looked and felt like solid rock, but was far lighter than its appearance suggested.<br/>Link understood the secrets and mechanisms that were hidden underneath its outer shell now, but he knew that the device would have seemed like magic to a much younger him. To some extent, of course, it was.</p>
<p>“The Wind Tribe entrusted this to me the last time I visited them”, he explained, and offered the rod to Zelda. She snatched it from his waiting hand with an excited grin, giving it a few experimental swings. Golden energy gathered into a sphere at the centre of the staff's elaborate headpiece and dissipated again moments later, without a source for it to latch onto.<br/>“They call it a Dominion Rod”, Link said, sitting back up and closing the clasps of his travel pack with practised fingers. “They mainly use these to operate their mechanical servants, though they have a few other uses as well. The sky people figured that the royal family should have one, just in case travel between our kingdoms becomes an issue again. We can use it to establish communications with them.”</p>
<p>Zelda nodded along, clearly paying attention even as she carefully examined the runes and patterns engraved into the surface of the magic item.</p>
<p>“This was part of your studies?”, she asked, briefly glancing at the door that Impa, along with his research, had disappeared through earlier.<br/>Link nodded. “The Dominion Rods were among the many things I examined, yes.”<br/>He stood up and stretched, humming with contentment when his spine gave a satisfying <em>pop</em>.</p>
<p>“If you want to know how it works and how it's operated, it's all detailed in those books.”<br/>He extended a hand down towards her and pulled her to her feet in one swift movement, using her momentary surprise to snatch the rod back out of her hands.<br/>He twirled it with practised ease and aimed the glowing orb at its tip at one of the decorative statuettes lining Zelda's chambers.</p>
<p>He shot her a devious smirk. “Alternatively, if your schedule allows for it, I could just <em>show</em> you, which would be a lot less dull, wouldn't you say?”</p>
<p>A smile blossomed on her face, echoing his own wicked excitement. He had known that she would be fully on-board with his plan. Zelda had never been able to say 'no' to mischief, after all.<br/>Ah yes, there would be chaos afoot in the castle today.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>In the end, he remained at the castle for an entire week.<br/>Zelda was a busy person, which meant that she couldn't spend as much time with him as she would have liked, but she was grateful for his company nonetheless.</p>
<p>She was a lonely person, these days – where, as children, they would frequently sneak out of the castle and explore the town and the surrounding fields together, she now had the heavy responsibilities of the crown to bear. The court, her duties and endless stacks of paperwork kept her busy, and they also kept her far away from the wilderness and adventure she loved.<br/>Link knew that there was nothing he could do to truly change any of that, but he still tried to help her out however he could. More often than not, she just needed a friend, someone who would allow her to forget for just a few hours how heavy her burdens really were.</p>
<p>He was happy to stay however long she needed him, every time.</p>
<p>One evening, five days into his stay, Zelda had been called away for a spontaneous but urgent meeting that promised to last until late into the night.<br/>She had cursed, given him a brief hug and advised him not to wait up for her, and then she had made her way out of the room, her skirts flaring out angrily around her ankles with every brisk step.</p>
<p>Link had watched her go, disappointed for her sake – she had had a long day, and she had really been looking forward to having the evening off.</p>
<p>He, on the other hand, now found himself with nothing to do, suddenly bereft of his plans for the night as he was.</p>
<p>He took one glance around the extravagantly decorated room and decided that he didn't feel like being cooped up in here all evening, especially if he was going to be alone. He nodded to himself and grabbed his bag, slinging it over one shoulder.<br/>If he was in the area already, he might as well pay a visit to his favourite tavern in Castletown. He hadn't been there in far too long.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Mama's Café</em> was not, in fact, just a café.<br/>While it was true that they made a majority of their income by selling a variety of foods and the local milk products, they wouldn't be the town's main eatery if they didn't also serve an impressive array of alcoholic drinks.</p>
<p>Link had come here a lot when he had been a young man. Mama herself had still worked here back then – she had since retired though, and her daughter had taken over the family business.<br/>It had never felt quite the same after that, and his visits had grown a lot less frequent over the years.</p>
<p>Even now though, as he was sitting at the bar and enjoying a pint of the rich local dark ale, Link still recognised a lot of the old regulars and staff.<br/>He gave them a cheerful half-wave and then returned to his drink, basking in the nostalgic flavour. It was far from the best beer he had ever had, so heavy and frothy and just a little bit too malty, but it tasted like home, and it reminded him of simpler times.</p>
<p>He was just draining the last dregs of his drink when he heard the chair next to his own scrape against the floor as it was pulled back, and then the quiet <em>squeak</em> of old, worn hinges as someone settled down in it.<br/>Link swallowed calmly and put down his empty glass, and only then he turned around in his seat, greeting the new arrival with a smile.</p>
<p>He found it echoed on the ageing face of the man sitting next to him.<br/>“Linky! It really is you! It's been far too long, old friend! I thought I saw you sitting here, and I just had to come over and say hello!”</p>
<p>Link grinned, inclining his head.<br/>“It's good to see you too, Captain Edmund. How have you been?”</p>
<p>He received a friendly punch to the shoulder in response.<br/>“How often do I have to tell you, it's just 'Ed' to my friends”, came the good-natured reply. “I've been well though. The twins are growing up so fast – you should see them, Link. They're already so handy with a sword. They're going to out-do their old man soon, if they keep it up. I couldn't be prouder.” He chuckled. “And Bea is pregnant again, too! She'll be due in just a few weeks. I can't wait to meet our little one.”</p>
<p>“Really? Congratulations!” Link's grin grew impossibly brighter as he leaned in to hug his old friend and drinking buddy. “That's wonderful news!”</p>
<p>He caught the eye of Mama's daughter across the counter and winked, placing a purple rupee down on the bar top.<br/>“Keep them coming, Dottir! Drinks are on me tonight!”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“...and then Talon said '<em>What's wrong? You look like you've seen a cucco!</em>', and he wasn't wrong, because the blasted bird was right behind him!”<br/>Ed spluttered and started howling with laughter, and Link grinned into his drink.<br/>He loved telling that story. It was a classic.</p>
<p>Ed giggled breathlessly for a few more seconds, his face red from both alcohol and delight.<br/>Link took another sip of his beer and chuckled to himself, giving his friend a moment to catch his breath.<br/>“By the way, is it okay for the esteemed captain of the guard to look so messy in public?”, he teased, pointing at the dishevelled pink locks that had come loose from their usually-so-neat ponytail. Ed just laughed, combing his fingers through his hair in a clumsy gesture that only succeeded in making it look even more chaotic.</p>
<p>“Come to think of-” Link leaned forward curiously, propping himself up with his hands as he peered at the captain's hair. “Do you think your new child will inherit it too?”</p>
<p>“What, the hair colour?” Ed grinned. “I sure hope they will! It's our family's signature colour, after all! My dad had it, and his mother before him, and her father too, and every single Von Leyen in this long line of royal knights. It's pretty much expected by now.”<br/>He took another swig of his ale, sighing in contentment as he set his glass down. “The twins inherited it too. I'd be surprised if the new kid didn't; it runs in the family, and those are some seriously strong genetics. My cousin is my only relative on that side of the family who <em>doesn't</em> have our famous pink hair, and that's only because he's bald!”</p>
<p>He laughed, a warm, booming sound. Link joined in, feeling happy and tipsy and very amused.<br/>“You know what, I'll drink to that!”, he proclaimed enthusiastically, raising his pint. “Here's to rosy-haired royal knights – may they still be around many centuries from now!”<br/>They clinked glasses and downed the remainder of their drinks in companionable silence.</p>
<p>The quiet persisted even after they set their empty glasses back down. It settled over them like a comfortable blanket, warm and fuzzy with the gentle buzz of alcohol.<br/>They stayed like that for a while, just basking in the company of an old friend and soaking up the familiar buzz of the tavern, loud chatter, laughter and slurred drinking songs interspersed with the rhythmic beats of dancing feet and clapping hands.</p>
<p>“You know, it's lucky that we met here”, Link said eventually, feeling slow and happy and comfortably buzzed. “I was going to go looking for you otherwise. I've got a present for you.”<br/>He leaned down to grab his bag, teetering precariously on the high bar stool.<br/>“It's good timing too, I guess – just consider it a gift for your child's birth. It wasn't planned like that, but it works out.”</p>
<p>When he straightened back up, he was holding yet another brand-new sword in his hands, the last one his backpack had held.</p>
<p>This one looked rather simple and plain, at first glance. It had none of the fanciful ornamental work that graced the Magical Sword; instead, the guard and pommel were made from plain, polished dragonbone, a material that was both sturdy and light. The guard curved downwards in a way that was almost reminiscent of the Four Sword; Link simply hadn't been able to resist adding that little bit of self-indulgent flair.<br/>Set into the lower part of the hilt was a round piece of amber. It was the kind of gem that took well to spells; channel enough magic into it, and the item it was set into would never break. It was an easy way to strengthen the longevity-enchantments Link had already put on the blade independently; if this sword would truly reach the hands it was intended for, it would need to be as close to indestructible as possible. It would have to weather a lot of hardships in its lifetime, and many different quests.</p>
<p>Link had wrapped the grip itself in fine strips of white leather, soft and unblemished and comfortable to the palm. Below that covering, of course, he had engraved his name into the hilt, as he did with all the weapons he created.<br/>Every self-respecting craftsman signed his works, after all.<br/>It was simply a matter of pride.</p>
<p>(<em>One day far in the future, or maybe now or maybe never, in a dream far removed from concepts as frivolous as time and space, a piece of the well-worn leather wrapping will unravel and a young adventurer</em> (an ancient veteran) <em>will wonder when exactly he had gotten around to carving his name into his sword – but as is the nature with dreams, the question will be snatched away from his mind before he can ever get the chance to examine it properly, and he will forget.</em>)</p>
<p>Despite the plain decorations, the light colour scheme gave the weapon something of an ethereal quality. It almost seemed to be glowing in the dim, cosy light of the tavern.</p>
<p>Ed leaned forward in awe, his drunken haze momentarily forgotten.</p>
<p>“This is for me?”, he asked, his eyes wide with astonishment. They were glistening wetly in the low light. He looked close to tears, clearly touched.</p>
<p><em>No</em>, Link thought. “Yes”, he said, and smiled.</p>
<p>“I- Link, we haven't even seen each other in years! What brought this on?” There was a note of disbelieving hysteria in Ed's voice.<br/>Link was aware that his blades were in high demand – his reputation preceded him, and while he had never been one to over-charge, the care, time and exquisite materials he put into his works still put the weapons he created at the kind of price that not many would be able to afford.</p>
<p>From what he had heard, his swords had become something of a status symbol among the royal guard. And while Ed was a captain, he also had a large family to take care of. He simply didn't have the kind of spare money that would be necessary for a commission from the royal blacksmith.<br/>And it wasn't like the sword he carried right now was bad in any case, old and worn as it was. It was a fine piece of craftsmanship, and it had belonged to Ed's father before him, Link knew. His friend had always regretted the fact that it probably wouldn't last long enough to be passed down to the next generation, though.</p>
<p>“I've been reminiscing about old times, lately”, Link said, giving Ed a wistful smile. It wasn't even a lie. He had missed this – the easy laughs and the comfortable companionship. Ed was a very good friend.<br/>“And, well... I wanted to do something nice for you.”</p>
<p>He extended the sword hilt-first towards the other man, giving him a playful smirk.<br/>Ed took it from his waiting hands, still looking stunned.</p>
<p>“Just so you know, none of the swords the other soldiers have can even <em>remotely</em> compare to this one, even if they came out of my own workshop. I've spent months on this – it's one of my finest works.”<br/>Ed nodded numbly, seeming almost dazed, and drew the blade from its ivory sheath.<br/>There was a moment of silence as the steel slid free from the scabbard, the movement smooth and elegant despite the slow, drawn-out reverence with which it was carried out.</p>
<p>A hush had fallen over the crowd, Link realised.<br/>Heads were turned their way, curious, excited, and awed.<br/>Indeed, his reputation preceded him – and his work spoke for itself.</p>
<p>Ed inhaled sharply, and then the blade was free of its confines.<br/>He kept it raised like that for a moment, its polished tip pointed at the dingy ceiling, and stared at the bright steel with wide eyes. Then, the moment passed, and he lowered it slowly, feeling its weight. “It's perfectly balanced”, he breathed quietly, astonished delight painted all across his features. “And it's so light!”<br/>Link hummed in agreement, a proud smile on his face. “Most longswords are heavy and unwieldy, because of the sheer size of the blade. It takes certain materials to reduce that weight, but usually, those would affect the general stability and structural integrity of the sword.” He nodded, satisfied with his explanation. “You're lucky, then, that I'm far from a regular blacksmith.”<br/>Ed chuckled, still caught in his hazy disbelief, and Link gave him a wink. “This sword is going to last for millennia, you know. I'm not even exaggerating. This blade will be practically indestructible, especially if you take good care of it. And I know you always treat your swords well.”</p>
<p>He reached out and placed his hands over Ed's, where they still grasped the longsword's hilt. “This is a gift from me to you, old friend. I only ask for you to make it your family's heirloom – the knowledge that it will be used even centuries from now will be payment enough for me. Wield it with courage, and your children after you, and their children after them, and so on. I'd be honoured if your family kept my legacy alive, that way.”</p>
<p>Ed shook his head, fond and baffled. “Me, keep <em>your</em> legacy alive? You're Hyrule's Hero, friend. I think you will outshine all of us, even long after we're both gone.” He glanced down at Link's hands, still clasped over his own. “Be that as it may though, this is a request I will gladly fulfil. Even just holding it, I can already tell that this is by far the finest blade I have ever held in my hands – I'm not sure what I've done to deserve such a priceless gift, but trust me when I say this: on my honour as a knight, my family will ever cherish this precious gift.”<br/>He blinked tears out of his eyes, and cleared his throat.</p>
<p>“May this sword ever protect the peace of our beloved kingdom, and may my descendants never stray from their oath.”</p>
<p>Link smiled, warm and genuine and knowing.<br/>“They won't. Trust me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Link sat high upon a steep cliff, staring down at the distant landscape of Hyrule stretching out far beneath his dangling feet.<br/>The wind caressed his cheeks and whispered untold secrets in his ears, and he leaned into its almost-touch wistfully, letting it play with his hair and rustle his clothing.</p>
<p>Here he was, then, at the final destination of his journey.</p>
<p>It had taken him some time to find this place originally – he had been keeping his eyes open for it throughout the years of his life, and his search had finally been rewarded last summer, when he had climbed this lonely peak to the south-west of Hyrule Field and found, here, what he had been looking for.<br/>This area wasn't generally a mountainous region. There was the occasional hill and large boulder, but they very much paled in comparison to the tall slopes of the Veiled Falls and Mount Crenel, where Link had initially begun his search so long ago.</p>
<p>None of those peaks had seemed quite right, though.<br/>He had been forced to expand the range of his search.</p>
<p>He had been very surprised to uncover this mountain, in the end – he hadn't considered this place in his explorations before, since it wasn't technically a part of Hyrule Kingdom anymore, even though it was close enough to the border that he could still see the green fields of his home from its peak.<br/>It wasn't much of a “mountain” at all, in his defence – rather, the summit he was sitting on belonged to one of two craggy spires that rose out of the ground in close proximity to each other.<br/>Apart from this curious rock formation, there wasn't much to draw the eye here. A few hills dotted the landscape, and some stout, stubborn trees clung to the cliff faces, but the area was relatively barren.</p>
<p>Not many people lived here, either. A few simple huts and hovels stood in the deep shadows cast by the towering rocks, but they could barely even be described as a village, sparse and scattered as they were.</p>
<p>Perhaps, Link thought to himself with an edge of bitterness, it had taken him so long to find this place not just because of its unexpected location, but also because some part of him had wanted to tarry. Had wanted to delay this.</p>
<p>Coming here felt like such a final thing – like he was about to close the chapter not just of this journey, but also of his time as The Hero in general.<br/>It was nonsense, probably – Zelda had warned him away from such thoughts. But even then, he couldn't shake the strange sense of finality that seemed to hang in the air.</p>
<p>There was no more reason to put this off any longer, though. No more reason to tarry.</p>
<p>He had a job to do.</p>
<p>His pack was light as he made his way down the steep mountainside, empty of all but his usual travel gear. No new swords were weighting it down now; no more fresh steel was hiding in its depths.</p>
<p>And yet, he had one last delivery to make.</p>
<p>Halfway down the right stone spire, there was a small congregation of houses. They were clustered around a large outcropping of rock, a stable platform large enough to build a small community on. The ground here was covered in soil and grass, and there were even a few simple gardens, where the people who lived here seemed to be growing hardy vegetables like cabbage and leek and onions.</p>
<p>Between the huts and the plants stood, so old and brittle that it probably wouldn't last much longer than a few more decades, a small and decrepit Goddess Statue.<br/>Despite its poor state, it seemed to be well-loved; it was decorated with intricately woven scarves and drapes, and there were offerings in the form of flowers and wine placed at its feet.<br/>It wasn't in this state out of negligence then, Link surmised with a sad smile. Very likely, this little community simply didn't have the resources and craftsmanship that would be required to keep this goddess icon in a stable condition. The wind and weather must have slowly but surely worn away at it over the centuries it had stood here, until it was cracked and worn down.</p>
<p>Link approached the small statue gently, his hands clasped in the traditional prayer as he kneeled down in front of it.</p>
<p>“Here we are, then, my old friend”, he murmured kindly. “At the end of the journey.”</p>
<p>There was no audible response, but the wind seemed to pick back up, gently tousling his hair and caressing his cheek.<br/>Link smiled wistfully and closed his eyes.<br/>“I suppose this was a long time coming”, he continued, and it seemed almost like the breeze was cooing at him sympathetically, humming unintelligible words of comfort in his ear.</p>
<p>He opened his eyes again and nodded quietly, once more reaching into his travel pack.<br/>It was with slow reverence that he pulled out his offering; the familiar weight of his grandfather's sword sat heavy in his hands, and the worn leather of the scabbard felt warm and melancholy to his tightly clenched fingers.</p>
<p>“I... I know you understand that giving this up isn't easy for me”, he said haltingly, eyes trained on the familiar patterns set into the old leather. It didn't look as beat-up as it perhaps should after all these years, but that was only because of the enchantments Ezlo had placed upon the blade for him back then, when it had all begun. He had learned so much from his old friend.</p>
<p>The intricately decorated sheath seemed to blur beneath his gaze. How strange.<br/>He blinked his stinging eyes.</p>
<p>“But I know that this needs to be here. That it <em>will</em> be here, in the future. I suppose, if anything, I should be glad that its legacy won't die with me-”<br/>There was a beat of drawn-out silence, and Link gently placed the sword down in front of the statue. His hands lingered for a moment, caught between the scabbard and its soft bed of grass, and he wavered, some unknown emotion inside of him refusing to let him uncurl his fingers to let go of the familiar leathers.</p>
<p>Link exhaled, slowly and deliberately, and unclenched his fingers, one by one.</p>
<p>He lifted trembling hands away from the old weapon.</p>
<p>It sat there in front of him, peaceful and still on its pillow of mosses and grass.</p>
<p>Link closed his eyes and breathed.</p>
<p>“I want to help”, he mouthed tonelessly, but the gentle brush of air against his cheek told him that the Goddess had heard him anyway. “I want to help, I really do. But how is it fair that I have to give up so much of myself?”</p>
<p>His eyebrows creased, a miserable frown twisting his features. “I've spent years of my life making these weapons as good as they can possibly be, even though I know that most of them will be discarded within weeks once the others lay their hands upon the hilt of the Master Sword. And now, I'm giving up even this-”</p>
<p>The world was blurry when he opened his eyes again, a disorientingly hot bead of water slipping down his cheek with the movement, but his unfocused gaze still found the hazy outlines of the sword he had placed by the Goddess' feet.</p>
<p>“If it was only the blade, I would be okay eventually, I think”, he admitted, his voice low and rough with the strain of emotions that were too complex to put into words.<br/>“But it isn't, is it? He said that the sword was part of a set.”</p>
<p>He didn't need to reach into his bag this time. The final item was not in there; it was strapped to his back, where it had been for the majority of his waking life.<br/>With a motion that was more muscle-memory than anything else, he hooked his right arm behind his shoulders and pulled his shield free from the harness that kept it suspended there.</p>
<p>By pure habit, be swung it out in front of him as if to deflect some invisible attack – and then froze, his entire body stilling in a battle-ready pose, caught halfway between kneeling and standing.</p>
<p>He exhaled the breath that had been caught in his throat, and dropped his stance.</p>
<p>Tiredly, he sunk back down to the ground, turning the shield around in his hands.</p>
<p>The evening sunlight got caught on its polished bronze surface, reflecting its coppery shine back at him almost sadly; the lighting made the shield seem near-divine, as if it was glowing out of its own power. At the same time though, the stark glare of the sun also seemed to highlight the various dents and scratches that had marred the metal over the years despite his best efforts.</p>
<p>He still remembered the day Zelda had entrusted this shield to him, a gift freely given and bashfully accepted.<br/>He had cherished it all these years, and taken good care of it – the prospect of simply laying it down and walking away now seemed nearly unfathomable.</p>
<p>His journey had begun with this shield, before he had ever accepted a sword to wield.<br/>That was who he was, in the end – someone who protected, rather than someone who blindly swung a blade.</p>
<p>There was a plethora of other shields in his workshop, these days – shields he had crafted with his own two (eight) hands that were both sturdier and more imposing than the one he was holding now.<br/>But this was the one that had started it all. This shield, more than anything, represented his promise to Zelda; the promise that he would keep her safe, and the rest of the kingdom along with her.</p>
<p>It was the beginning.</p>
<p>How fitting, then, that it should also be the end.</p>
<p>A sigh escaped his lips, and he willed his hands to reach out and place the shield down.<br/>Gently – almost tenderly – he propped it up against the Goddess statue. It seemed like a perfect fit, with how small she was; the right side of her body was covered nearly completely by it. It made her look almost fierce despite her kind expression; like she was warding off an incoming attack.<br/>After a moment of deliberation, Link picked his grandfather's sword back up and leaned it against the statuette's left arm, withdrawing his hands carefully and slowly.</p>
<p>“I suppose I will have to rely on you to protect them in my stead, then”, he murmured, and bowed his head.</p>
<p>He remained like that for hours, his hunched form still and his breathing even.<br/>They say he left eventually, but where he went, no one here knows.</p>
<p>The villagers still whisper about it to this day.<br/>Was he praying?<br/>Was he crying?<br/>Was he simply allowing the world to pass him by for a moment, now that he was done with his duty?</p>
<p>They will never know, of course – but even as it fades into legend and then into myth, they will never forget the day on which the Hero came to Outset Hill and entrusted his two dearest possessions to them and the Goddess for safe-keeping.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Somewhere in Hyrule, there is a house, and that house is also a workshop and a business.<br/>On the first floor is the work space and the shop, and that is as far as any customer will ever go.<br/>Personal guests might be lucky enough to get invited up the staircase in the back, up into the living quarters that have been Link's home for his entire life.</p>
<p>No one is here right now, of course.<br/>The forge has been cold for weeks, and a thin layer of dust has settled over everything here.</p>
<p>On the front door, there is an old sign, and in a neat cursive hand, it reads “<em>Gone on an adventure. Don't wait up</em>”.</p>
<p>Soon enough, the kiln will see fire once again, and the blacksmith will again get to work in his old smithy.<br/>But that is not now.</p>
<p>Now, the house is empty (or as empty as any homestead of the Minish could ever be, anyway), and the hearth is cold.</p>
<p>But if anyone were to venture up that rickety staircase in the back, and make their way through the living quarters up above (take a left and then go through the door straight ahead), they would find something very interesting indeed in Link's private little study.</p>
<p>There, on the cluttered desk, nearly hidden by messy papers and quills and empty inkwells, there's a sealed letter. It has clearly been here for a while. Dust has collected in its creases and on the sealing wax – not the light layer of dust that graces everything else here, but rather the kind of old grime that settles into nooks and crannies that haven't been looked after in years.</p>
<p>This letter, of course, is a will.</p>
<p>Link is an adventurer. He knows the risks that come with the job.<br/>He is always well-prepared for every eventuality. Even this one.</p>
<p>If you were to open this will, you would find pages upon pages of gentle words and kind reassurances. Link is a man of many possessions, and every single one of them he promises to dear friends and loved ones here.<br/>A lot of them go to Zelda of course, because there is no one he is closer to, but astonishingly, not a single one of Link's many acquaintances goes unmentioned. There is a tender word and a gift for everyone here, a way to express to all these people that they have made an impact on his life.</p>
<p>If you were to reach the last page, though, you would once again find a sealed document.<br/>On it, a simple line of script would read '<em>To Zelda</em>'.</p>
<p>With any luck, this seal will never be broken by the wrong hands.<br/>And if, one day, Zelda will open this letter with trembling fingers and mournful eyes, here is the message she will find:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>My dear friend,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I would once again thank you for everything you have done for me, but there are no words that can capture how deep my love for you is, and even then, I have made enough clumsy attempts at them on the previous pages.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Rather, there is one last request I would make of you.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Or perhaps, one last gift I have to give.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I entrust to you my blue ocarina.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>It was given to me by the ancients, when I was just a child.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>It has served me well over the years – but I feel like its story isn't meant to end with me.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>It has a role yet to play. I know it.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Let it be an heirloom to the royal family then,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>and a secret to everybody.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Take care of yourself, my friend.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>May the Goddess watch over you, and may we meet again in another life.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Love,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Link</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here we are then, at the end... Or maybe it's just the beginning?<br/>The Zelda timeline is only just getting started, after all.<br/>But we have seen a lot of things get set into motion, here. I hope you enjoyed this mixture of LU headcanons, actual Zelda lore and my own personal theories. Writing this took me a long time, but I'm happy with how it came out in the end. </p>
<p>As you might have noticed, both Sky and Warriors didn't get a reference in this fic.<br/>Sky, for obvious reasons: he's already long-dead by the time Four is alive, so there isn't anything he can do to help him.<br/>Warriors was a bit more tricky; I tried to find a way to fit him in here, but I had to face it eventually: pretty much all of his weapons are either standard military issue, or he got them from an enemy. There wasn't much Four could contribute here. He probably tried to find a way to make something work, but in the end, he couldn't do anything that would've been helpful. (I do have my own headcanons about how he influenced the Hyrule Warriors timeline in a different way, though... But that is a theory for a different fic.) </p>
<p>Initially, I was going to write a paragraph that addressed both Sky and Warriors, and it would've gone something like "There was nothing he could do for them" - but it didn't seem to quite fit anywhere, so in the end, I decided to leave it out completely.<br/>I think it's better this way.<br/>There aren't any loose ends now. </p>
<p>Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this piece!<br/>I've poured a lot of my heart and soul into this tale.<br/>Have a wonderful day, my friends, and please let me know what you think! I always love interacting with you guys through the comments! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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